


Dusted with Sugar

by LillysoftheValley



Series: Allsorts - A Collection of Assorted GO Ficlets [10]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Affection, Baking, Cookies, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Food, Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Holidays, Ineffable Partners, Snow, South Downs Cottage (Good Omens), Traditions, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:34:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28079256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LillysoftheValley/pseuds/LillysoftheValley
Summary: What's better than cookies in the winter? LOTS of cookies in the winter! Crowley is a whiz in the kitchen, and Aziraphale is rather a dab hand at icing. Together they whip up enough baked goods to feed the village until spring (and have plenty left for themselves).Don't be fooled by the word count! This is as fluffy as it gets!
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Allsorts - A Collection of Assorted GO Ficlets [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1650484
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	Dusted with Sugar

Snow is falling in a gossamer sheet beyond the windows of the kitchen in the cottage by the coast. A squall has blown in from the sea, darkening the sky and painting the garden outside with a dusting of white. Aziraphale cradles a steaming mug of cocoa, looking out at all of Crowley's hard work. It has been weeks of weeding, trimming back branches here, tying up bundles there, covering with burlap and layers of nice warm mulched leaves. The garden has been lovingly tucked in for the long winter night and even though Aziraphale knows it will blossom again in the spring, it is still a little saddening to see it so brown. Still, the juniper trees are green, the holly bush is laden with bright red berries, and Crowley has made sure to plan the garden well enough that there are hardy winter plants to lend a little color where they may. Aziraphale smiles and sips the cocoa (perfectly hot, no burnt tongues here) and thinks that perhaps they can bring in a few boughs of the holly to trim the fireplace.

"The garden will be all right, angel," Crowley says with a smile. "Now, come here and give me a hand with these."

Aziraphale hurries to get the oven door open for Crowley, who has a baking tray in each hand. They have been baking all morning, in what has become a winter tradition. Once the solstice comes, Crowley sets to work making sure every household in the village is well stocked with enough breads, pies, and biscuits to last, they joke, until spring. Aziraphale is happy to be sous chef, leaving Crowley to bend all the creative energy that cannot be spent in the garden on dough and pastry instead.

"Zest me an orange, will you?" Crowley asks, turning to one of the many bowls nestled among the ingredients on the countertop; local eggs, fresh cream, and apples from the neighbor's tree across the way join spices picked up in distant places, tastes of near and far coming together.

Aziraphale leans in and blows a stray streak of flour away before kissing Crowley's cheek. "Yes, chef."

They work side by side, the kitchen filling with the warm smells of spices, sugar and yeast. Crowley makes up silly lyrics to the carols on the radio; Aziraphale dances on the way to the oven; kisses are stolen while the kettle comes to boil. Crowley beats everything by hand, insisting it makes everything taste better, and Aziraphale is inclined to agree. Together they knead dough, as they have seen it done for thousands of years, up to their elbows in flour that gets tossed as much on their matching aprons as it does on the bench. They cut biscuits into fantastical shapes (Crowley is not sure when Aziraphale decided dragons were a holiday shape, but bakes them all the same). Once the biscuits are done, Aziraphale is in charge of decoration, drizzling chocolate and caramel or piping delicate icing in intricate patterns. There are varieties from all over the world, both sweet and savory, recipes that have been handed down and stored away over the years. And Crowley has a list of who in the village needs theirs made specially so that everyone can have something to enjoy.

As the sunlight fades, and the last of the trays are set out to cool, they clean together, too. Aziraphale likes to wash, and Crowley has a very particular system in the cupboards. When everything is done, Crowley appears at Aziraphale's back, pointed chin resting on a sturdy shoulder as they look out the window at the garden. If they listen carefully, the choir can just be heard practicing in the church.

In the morning they will fill boxes and baskets with their bounty, and take the day driving through the village making deliveries. But for now, they are content to stay just like this, in the little kitchen of the cottage they share, watching the snow.


End file.
